


Family tree of 12 Grimmauld Place gains a new member and it gets fought for to remain

by TFALokiwriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Black Family tree portrait, Fix-It, Gen, Rated T for Sirius Black's swearing, Realization, Redemption, Short Chapters, Short Story, Sirius Black Never Went to Azkaban, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Walburga Black Bashing, What are the values of a Black?, Young Sirius Black, chiding, heel-face turn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23462986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFALokiwriter/pseuds/TFALokiwriter
Relationships: Sirius Black & Walburga Black, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

The only place that was remotely available and could house Harry with much argument with his mother instead of muggles was 12 Grammauld place. Hagrid laid knocked out on the ground unconscious and Harry was wailing loudly. He returned into the house, picked up the baby gear, then made a run for it from the manor walking over the bodies of what had been his brother in arms and sister in arms as part of his found family. His heart ached, yearned for them to wake up and laugh at him, mocking him for falling for it and yet, they remained still. 

Sirius set the boy into the passenger seat, put on the helmet, slid down the visor, and made way for the one place that offered sanctuary. His mind filled with dread of going back but it was the only option. And he didn't want everyone else to suspect Remus even more than they had as he did. The mobile motorcycle came to a pause alongside the sidewalk then aimed the wand at it, "Transfiguro." and watched as it transformed into a street sign. He picked up the large baby bag, including Harry, then made his way to the door. He aimed his wand at the door, "Alohomora." It opened with a creak.

Sirius took out the mobile baby bed, set it aside, then tucked Harry in. The wheels clacked over the entrance way as Harry was laid on his side. Sirius arrived into 12 Grimmauld Place, set Harry's portable baby bed alongside a chair, then went toward the tapestry near the entrance way, took off the motorcycle helmet, and stared. He stared at the new head in the tapestry then smiled. All that mattered was Harry was in his crosshairs and Voldemort was dead. All that mattered was that Harry was a Black.

Sirius noted the place was a mess and there was webbing. He closed the windows with several spells that stopped making the wind blowing into the apartment. The shouts, screams, and words of filth that had been said behind these walls remained. So, instead, he decided to laugh. And laughed, and laughed, until all those dark feelings were gone.

"Foul, spewing, hate filled traitor." Came a familiar old house elf's voice.

Sirius turned toward Kreacher. 

"So are you." Sirius said.

"You are not welcomed here." Kreacher said. "Mistress will not be happy."

Sirius aimed the wand at Kreacher.

"If you wake up Harry then I will turn you into a beaver and never turn you back." Sirius said. 

"The mistress will hear of this!" Kreacher howled.

"Lower your voice, vile house elf." Sirius hissed.

Kreacher snapped away then Sirius came toward the source of open wailing.

"Ssssh." Sirius picked up the boy into his arms. "Ssssh."

Harry's crying began to dull as a series of footsteps came behind him.

"Stains of dishonor."

Sirius turned toward the familiar voice that had aged.

"Stain of odd new carpetting." Sirius countered. "Insulting your Godgrandson that way, I shouldn't be surprised." He cast a deaf charm upon the boy then glared back at the older woman. "Lower your goddamn voice, hag."

"Children of filth, blood traitor, mudblood! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

Sirius did not budge.

"I can't do that, mother." Sirius said. 

"Why not?" she held her wand up, her dark but graying hair disheveled, as the tip of the wand glowed.

"I wimped out being a secret keeper and made a friend of mine the one to protect Harry's parents."

"You should have been the secret keeper." Walburga said as Sirius withstood the urge to attack her with stupefy. "Your presence is a stain of the house."

"No, mother, that is all your doing." Sirius replied. "The House of Black is supposed to be noble, respectable, and honorable. You have turned it into a racist, dishonest, and cruel name to say." Walburga scowled with a hiss at the comments coming from her son. "If you force me out then the Black Family tree will die with me."

Sirius gestured toward the skeletal picture of his brother's name.

"You and I will be forever remembered as traitorous, deceiving, and backstabbing people." Sirius said. "Do you want that?"

"Like you know what being a Black means." Walburga said.

"I know for starters they are supposed to be pure of heart and passionate about what they believe in." Sirius said. "Isn't that a Slytherin is also?"

Walburga became quiet at the calm tone that her son commanded as if she had been slapped by her beliefs then sighed.

"I can’t take back what I have done but I can mend the wounds that I left and do better.” Walburga said. 

Sirius was quiet, staring at his mother then looked around the room.

“Well, for starters, you need a better color scheme." Sirius noted. "It is bleak as hell.”

“Is that it?” Walburga asked. 

“Yes. But, keep some black in it. Black goes great with some wonderful colors.”

“Then let’s do it together.”

For the first time in a long time, Sirius smiled back at his mother.

* * *

It was strange to be on her side as they changed the scheme of the house to brighter colors. They brought in blue, green, and red about the house. For the first time in a long time, the house breathed a sigh of relief and inhaled new life as some of the serpents were color coded to many species of snakes. Sirius stared at the railing as his eyes were full of disbelief but layered in levels of shock and the charm that was casted on Harry's ears were over. 

“Mother, why does the snake rail have smiley faces?”

“It’s to cover the scars, Sirius. Don’t be so surprised. We, Blacks, make decoration out of scars.”

Sirius stared back at her as she lifted a sleeve up and revealed her own wound that had a tattoo covering a scar. 

“You . . Quite edgy and Black in every way. Horrendous.”

“I picked the best out of the best.”

“Mother, that is a snake eating a butterfly, that is the worst tattoo I have seen.”

“Says the man who got a tattoo of a wolf on his back.” Sirius became surprised. “Don’t think I don’t know that.”

“How?”

“Nurse Poppy told me. Now, we are to do upstairs.” She went up the stairs with the bucket floating behind her. “Dark purple and brown are the best colors to do for the master bedroom.”

Sirius grew horrified.

“Mother, those colors don’t go well together!”

“I have seen dresses with that color scheme and they were Black in every way.”

Sirius stared at his mother’s figure; _do I even know her as I think I do?_ She was more weird than he had given her credit for. He squinted after her then followed on carrying the two buckets of paint behind his mother covered in head to toe in paint wearing a mask that covered the lower part of his face and goggles that shielded his eyes. She cast spells at a time removing the webbing.

* * *

“What is the name of the person who betrayed the Potters?” Walburga asked.

“Peter Pettigrew. He is a illegal animagus.” He was quiet and sedate with Harry in his arms looking down toward the boy.

It was silent between them.

"Oh."

"I was going to come after him but then I realized . . ."

"What did you realize, Sirius?"

"No one would want to hear of it."

Walburga cleared her throat.

"Sirius, people do want to hear it."

Sirius looked down toward the boy.

“The Aurors are going to come here.”

“Then let them come.” Walburga said.

"You may come to regret it." Sirius said. "Even so may the house."

“They wouldn’t dare storm the house of a Black.” Walburga said, firmly.

“Aurors are courageous people, mother.” Sirius replied. “They are quite daring. . .” His features became mournful. “Just like James.” 

"If they took him, where would they take him?" Walburga replied.

"To Lily's muggle family." Sirius replied.

There was a loud series of knocks that drew the attention of the Blacks. Sirius looked toward the doorway then made a bee-line for the living room. He paced back and forth carrying the child, nervous, so Walburga silenced him with a charm and charmed his feet so that they were silenced. She turned toward the house elf then nodded. Kreacher moved toward the door then gripped on the doorway. Kreacher opened the door to the household then stared up toward the grim Aurors.

“We are here for Sirius Black.” The head of the Aurors were among them and intimidating; Walburga intimidated them instead of the other around. "He betrayed the Potters for the Dark Lord and now they're dead."

Walburga appeared behind Kreacher. 

“You are supposed to be searching for Peter Pettigrew.” Walburga said.

The head Auror frowned.

“Pettigrew is unable to be found.”

"Kreature, speak." Walburga requested.

“Peter Pettigrew wasn’t found by Sirius Black.” Kreacher said. “Sirius Black came here first.”

The Aurors looked upon the elf then toward the head of the house.

“Why did you summon him, Miss Walburga?"

"I didn't. He came here on his own accord and he isn't feeling well for a interview." Walburga said. "He is a Black. Through and through. And the only one capable of raising him is my son. Gryffindors are reckless and thoughtless individuals when it regards to being controlled by their rage when performing justice.”

The Aurors proceeded to nod along in understanding.

“My son informed me about the family that the child was to be left with. _Muggles_.” Walburga went on. “Inferior, dense, unpatriotic of Wizardly world and seeing it as a antagonistic force in their world. I did not want that to slip into the mind of a Black that would hate our world and our house. To oppress himself would be the cruelest world.”

“We have to find Peter Pettigrew and see if your story lines up.”

“My son told me that he is a illegal animagus.”

“As of recently?”

“Kreacher, hand me the letters.”

Kreacher returned then she held it out for them to see and the Aurors huddled around the letter scanning it intently then they nodded at once. Their eyes widened once they saw the date on the paper. She withdrew the letter then returned it to Kreacher.

“I will make sure that he registers in the morning," She shook her hand with a certain tone of promise in her voice. "Right now, he is unable to do it in his state of mind.” Walburga lowered her hand down back into her lap. “I have only recently been keeping his mind off by giving the house a overdue repaint.”

She gestured toward her stained dress and the features of her face that were covered and outlined by the gear that she had worn for the last few hours.

“We should be able to retrieve Pettigrew and question him. It would be best if he were to attend.“

“Soon as a date is arranged, he will be there.”

“Thank you for your time, Miss Black.”

“No, Aurors, thank you.”

The door closed behind the Aurors and Sirius stepped into the hallway. She ended the various charms upon him as he looked toward her, quite shocked, but very surprised. Confusion was the next emotion that decorated his facial features. 

“I thought you burned them.” Sirius said. 

Walburga turned toward her son, observing how shocked that he was, then grew remorseful.

“That was your brother’s copy.” Walburga admitted. “Sirius, do you have any partners to raise Harry with?”

Sirius looked aside, thinking it over, with a wince.

“I don’t know.”

“Not one of your friends can help?”

“I. . . I feel. . . I feel that I am not sure how you would be accepting of our relationship.”

“I may be a pure-blood. Sirius, but I am not one to allow my own to be alone raising a child after the dark lord's demise and my own death in a few short years. The boy needs partners to protect him.”

“Remus Lupin.” He stepped back, expecting her to lash out as Walburga stared at him. “I don’t know if he would like to be part of it. We haven’t. . . we haven’t . . . we haven't gotten to the Magical Ministry of Marriage and got ourselves a certificate. We haven't even discussed of this reality."

“Then get on the high horse and start taking care of the relationship." Wallburga said.

" _After_ Peter is taken care of." Sirius said. "Being suspected of being a traitor is no way to start a marriage, Mother."

"Sirius, did you even consider of what would happen _after_ he fell into your custody?” Walburga asked.

"I didn't." Sirius said. "I didn't think consider the possibility after I switched. I didn't need to."

"You only thought about the war, aggressively, suspecting everyone around you, just as a Black, you didn’t focus on the relationship that is supposed to cradle and protect around the prized cargo." Walburga shot him down then her pointed tone became softer. "You must focus on that very keenly after the trial is over.”

“I will." Sirius promised. "If that fucking little rat is found." Fury flashed across his face. The kind of fury that she had seen on Aractus's face upon telling him that she and Orion had burned their oldest grandson's face off the tapestry then walk away and give her the silent treatment. "He must be somewhere in New York hiding in the sewers or some place." 

“I have the distinct feeling that he will be found very soon.” Walburga said. "There is room for hope being searched for by the proper authorities."

“Fooo’ foo’ fooo’.” Harry pouted. “Foo‘!”

“Harry is hungry.” Sirius said.

“Kreacher, please get the high chair prepared.” Walburga said.

"Time for the old Black high chair." Kreacher said. "Thought I would never have to get that out."

"Is there food for him to eat, mother?" Sirius asked.

"We have the proper nutrition for him." Walburga said.

"It's a start to being part of my life again." Sirius said. "But, I won't do to him what you did to Regulus and I." His voice got hard, full of bitterness, hate, and resentment but with a tone of such conviction that belonged to a Black. "I will be the best Black there ever _was_."

Sirius walked off leaving Walburga in the living room. Walburga looked toward the family tree tapestry then traced along the branches and felt along what branch that had once cradled her husband's head. She looked on in sorrow toward the skeletal head. She closed her eyes in regret with her face pressed against it. Regrets, all that she had left. Her husband, Orion, unable to see a former Black and a new Black in the house. She turned away and joined them in the kitchen to have breakfast.


	2. Chapter 2

“Harry won’t stop crying.”

“The house doesn’t like him.”

“Mother, you have to end the blood magic on the house.”

“And lose a perfectly good guard? No. It has been in our family for generations, I will not lose that.”

“That was in the old days.”

“The old days came back in the form of Death Eaters, Siri. If you had came earlier, repented, and told me of the arrangement about being the godfather, then you wouldn’t have lost your beloved friends.”

“There is nothing to repent for.” Sirius said, his eyes locking toward her, his tone clearly on edge with his anger toward her. “The sorting hat made the decision for me.”

“Alas, that is in the past. A situation that would have never happened.” Walburga acknowledged shaking her head in regret. “If I had only been a good mother then your friends and your brother would be alive.”

She shook her head then went down the hall and Sirius retired to his cabin. She listened to the sound of him heading to bed then waited for a hour over the child crying. She heard the sound of his snoring echoing through the corridor. She was going to be a better mother and a better matriarch of the house. She made her way to the designated child’s room and the door opened before her with a wish. The boy was wailing, loudly, standing on his feet grasping on the rims of the barrier.

Walburga picked up the wailing Potter and a small knife, a handkerchief, and her wand. She slit a small cut on the side of the infant’s palm then trapped the trickling of blood into the handkerchief until the blood stopped falling then she set the child down to the floor then set the handkerchief stained material along the door frame with a wave of her wand and chanted a spell. The boy’s blood was absorbed and the house welcomed the boy losing its feeling of threatening, intimidating, and dread. The boy stopped crying then looked up curiously toward her as she entered the manor and the door closed behind her. 

“Ma?”

“No." Walburga replied as she repaired the wound. "I am not your mother.”

“Ma?”

“Walburga.”

“Walla. Walla. Walla.”

Harry held his hands up then she knelt down and picked him up.

“Walburga.”

“Walla.”

“Walb.”

“Walla.”

“Say Walb.”

“Walla.”

“Say Walb.”

“Walla.”

She scowled then looked toward the scar.

“What kind of scar is that?” She stared at the wound. “Poor thing.”

Walburga turned at the sound of knocking as she held the boy in her arms. She made her way toward the door then slid it open and found Rita Skeeter standing before her smoking a cigar. It was long and thin to her very eyes. The reporter stood before her with a smile.

“Are you Walburga Black?”

“Very.”

“May I ask you some questions.”

“Just wait a moment.”

Walburga closed the door then went upstairs with Harry, put him down into the bed on his back, then soothed him over with a blanket. She looked down toward the boy then applied a healing spell to his forehead that smoothed out the lightning scar wound. She sighed, heartbroken, shaking her head.

The muggleborn deserved to live with his kin not in a house that had fallen apart, become poisonous with its purity issues, and lost all the warmth that a family should have. She was ashamed in herself and her son for letting the relationship fall apart so easily. Even for the treatment that she put the boy under to be pure Black and she became quite unBlack with her treatment. Her parents were strict in their Black perception.

She turned away then returned to the lower regions of the house. She opened the door and allowed Rita in. Rita seated in a chair and Kreacher popped up as she called for him and returned with some treats and impromptu prepared tea. She spoke to Rita and left out no stone unturned. It was a quiet meeting between them relaying over what she had told the Aurors. 

“And has any Death Eater arrived to the house?”

“None so far.” Walburga replied then smiled, narrowly, bitterly. “They would find a foreboding dark house that would be ready to kill them if they dare step a foot in this house.”

The head of the house smiled, cagely, as the area around the reporter felt darker and full of tension that hadn’t been there before. In a moment, it was as if the colors in the room turned from bright to dark around them. A moment that was proving to last.

“How does it know they are Death Eaters?” Rita asked.

“Houses have these feelings, Skeeter.” Walburga twirled her finger in a circle as the woman lowered her glasses. “Behind these walls, they have a history, a story, feelings of events that transpired in them and they stick around far quite longer than a human would.”

Walburga lowered her head.

“I am a disappointment to this house.”

There. She got it off her shoulders. She wiped the bead of seat off her forehead.

“Why?”

“Trying to be the best Black is a challenge. To be pure, to be perfect, to be proper, and best of all . . ."

"Best of all, what?"

"Royalty in the highest regard with respect."

"You took it too far." 

Walburga nodded, briefly closing her eyes, in regret. 

"No one is perfect. A Black isn’t perfect. And I forgot what it felt to be their age, I became obsessed with the idea of being pure blooded, pure blooded, that I sent my children down the path of a monster. One to fight against him and the other to join his ranks.” She sucked in a breath then released it. “I am to blame as Voldemort.”

Rita shuddered.

“Don’t say his name. It’s horrible. He doesn’t deserve recognition!”

“I am not afraid of him.” Walburga said, her eyes fixated on the reporter, as the quill wrote away. “He doesn’t have much power. YOU, however, are giving him power of fear and control.”

Rita made herself smaller.

“He took away my son. He almost took away my second.” Walburga said. “He won’t take away my freedom to call him by his name.”

Rita released a breath and the air around them relaxed.

“So, your son isn’t a Death Eater?”

“Obviously, Sirius Black loves James and Lily Potter. He would have given his life to save them if it came down to it.” Walburga grew silent for a full moment as the quill followed to what she had said. “But, as a Black, he suspected he would be ratted out and chose someone else to take his place.”

“Ah, the former secret keeper on the run that you mentioned earlier.”

“He gives rats a bad name.” Walburga said. “I used to own a few rats and they were the most loyal creatures in the world.”

Walburga smiled at the memory that crossed his mind, rubbing her chin, looking back then her attention shifted toward the reporter. She reached her hand out then yanked the quill off the parchment then tightly grasped it holding it above the table.

“If you exaggerate this interview or put words into my mouth then I will be a Black and no one likes a Black at their worst.” Walburga informed the reporter with a glare. “And no one would even know that I did it.”

Walburga handed the quill back to the reporter’s hand. 

“People who rat people out are the worst.” Rita agreed, as though there wasn’t a interruption. “What do you intend to do with Harry?”

“Make sure that he and my son get to live reporter free.” Walburga replied.

“May we have a photograph with your godson?” Rita asked. “The people deserve to see some sign that the boy-who-lived is still alive.”

“You may.” Walburga nodded.

“My camera man is outside. I will get him.”

Rita got up to her feet then exited the house and Walburga took the offered tea cup by Kreacher.

“Thank you, Kreacher.” Walburga said.

“Do you need me to do any more tasks, mistress?”

“No, you are to return to your residence and rest. Good night, Kreacher.”

“Good night, mistress.”

Kreature vanished in a puff of smoke then Walburga returned to the front door at the sound of knocking. She set it open and allowed them in. She sipped from the cup with the small plate underneath. In a white flash with a noise, her picture was taken. She set the small tea cup on to the table then beckoned them on after her up the stairs. They went up the heavily mismatching painted house that seemed more alive than it had been in recent years.

She opened the door then found Sirius Black set in the rocking chair with Harry scooped in his arms rocking back and forth snoring away. Walburga held her finger up and hushed the reporter, aggressively. Rita stopped what she was going to say watching the godfather and godson resting together.

The cameraman set up the photoshoot then took a photograph. In a few moments, the crowd dispersed, then Walburga closed the door behind her to the child’s room. She lowered her gaze. Their relationship was never going to be mended together so easily back to what it had been once before or become better than what it was.

But, they were going to carry on the Black house, she looked around, hopeful, optimistic, and the family name and make things better. She followed the reporter down then opened the door and watched them go out with a few farewells.

Then Walburga closed the door and went up the stairs. 


	3. Chapter 3

Walburga arrived to Potter manor. It was quiet in the dark as she carried a small purse in her hand then began to untie it as she went in finding all signs of the Potters were gone. The door was ajar as she traveled through it. She picked up photographs at a time and slipped them into the bag. Crookshanks meowed in the dark sitting on the top of the stairs.

Walburga looked down upon the red cat then knelt down and held her hand out for the cat. The cat rushed to the cat then climbed up her arm and set about her shoulder where it sat there. She went about collecting the photographs in the home that once had been warm and happy just hours ago but now had became a site of tragedy. She carefully slid the photographs into the bag then searched for the aforementioned toy broomstick that Sirius had mentioned during the hours of painting searching about from room to room until she found it. She picked the small broom up then chucked it into the purse. Afterwards, finally, she went up the stairs.

Crookshanks was purring loudly as she ascended the stairs with one hand gliding on the wall. The house screamed its story of terror. The father of the house disarmed, killed, then the killer heading up the stairs silently. She arrived to the child’s room then slipped the photographs in the room into the bag as well. She picked up the baby gear by the strap then observed the room, quietly. So simple, sad, and depressing from carpet to furniture with little left of the innocence and magic the Wizarding world once bore for them. It all seemed _dull_. 

Walburga paused in her tracks then turned at the sound of footsteps behind her.

“Where is Harry?”

“Back at my place with Sirius.”

“Do I know you?”

“I am Sirius’s mother.”

“You can’t be.” His brows rose up.

“A Black does not lie regarding heritage.” Walburga replied.

“You’re definitely his mother.” He looked toward her wand then toward her. “What is that for?”

“I don’t know who you are.” Walburga replied. "Death Eater, spectator, Auror."

“Remus Lupin.” He eyed at her. “So, how does it feel holding a traitor?”

“The only person he betrayed was leaving Harry at first to find the traitor.” Walburga replied.

“What?” Remus asked, stepping forward, and Walburga stepped back with her wand still aimed at him. "Why in Merlin's name would they switch at the last minute?"

“It’s really something that you should talk about with him." Walburga replied. 

“You are implying that he wasn’t the secret keeper.” Remus said. "James told me they were using Sirius."

“He wasn’t.” Walburga said. "That was a bluff."

“Then why he is back with you?” Remus asked. "Instead of turning himself in and explaining himself."

“I am making him stay for his safety and the child’s safety." Walburga said. "And I have the very distinct feeling that he wouldn't have a proper trial if he did."

“They would have a proper trial for him." Remus said. "It's a given. It's a right. A legal right."

"Everyone like you knew there was a secret keeper even that it was Sirius." Walburga said. "Imagine that you are furious, heartbroken, and outraged and Peter is no where to be found."

"I wouldn't want to do it slowly." Remus admitted. "It would be a sham, a speedy trial with speeches, nothing less."

Remus became silent, growing grim, as he imagined the same set of circumstances.

"I may not approve of his decisions or what he does; but, I will be damned if I let the house of Black become extinct." Walburga replied.

Then Remus changed the subject. “How is Harry?”

"Mr Lupin, I like you to visit after the trial." Walburga said. "That way no one can accuse the House of Black of perjury." The word was enough to make her shudder then wince one after the other once giving life to the idea and Remus nodded in agreement. "We will have reporters hanging around Grimmauld Place number 12 so that makes it most imperative."

Remus was so young compared to the older woman. He had been just a child fighting a war that the adults had been standing back from and it broke her heart looking at the bags under his eyes and the weariness as he lowered his wand down to his side with a smile appearing to be relieved as his shoulders fell. He was a twenty-two year old compared to Walburga with a future ahead of him that had been marred and savaged by war. She could only imagine the shell shock that would echo through his life from the seven years of war in the Wizarding world.

"I will wait." Remus said.

Walburga turned away then apparated out the window with the cat in hand and Remus walked away. 

* * *

There was another knock on the door right as Walburga was going up the stairs. Crookshanks bolted up the stairs ahead of the matriarch of the house. She sighed, lowering her head, annoyed at the great but sudden interruption. She cast a spell that cloaked the belongings on the stairs and left them on the second step. She made her way from the stairs over toward the door then slid it open and there stood Dumbledore.

“May I come in?”

“It depends. Are you the prosecution against my son?”

“I . Yes.”

“Then no.”

“I heard Harry is here.”

“He is.”

"The child must be taken to his blood relatives." Dumbledore said, only it caused her laughter.

Walburga ceased to laugh then stared at him, darkly, while she leaned up completely then folded her arms.

“The child is safe in my home.” Walburga said. 

“He cannot be safe in your residence even if you think your blood magic is capable of protecting him." Dumbledore started to reply, gently, in a soothing tone of voice. "You are not related by blood, Walburga."

"We don't have to be." Walburga replied.

"Lily performed a act of love sacrificing herself for her son and every day that he is not under their roof is a day that he is in danger from Death Eaters finding him, finishing him off, and resuming what he-who-must-not-be-named had started. Her love cannot protect him with a unrelated figure.”

“Come in.” She held her hand out. “But if you go up the stairs then I will stupefy you.”

Dumbledore frowned then nodded, understandingly, to her request.

“I accept your conditions.” The headmaster said.

Dumbledore followed her into the living room then she waved her wand at the lights and the lights powered on. Behold, the long and large elaborate tree became apparent to their eyes. She came closer to the tree then pointed at the figure that read ‘Harry’. Dumbledore fell quiet as he turned toward Walburga looking at her quite perplexed.

“Family isn’t made by blood, Headmaster. It’s made by choice.” Walburga replied. “It’s all relationships. Whoever made the phrase blood is thicker than water is wrong. It’s love that is thicker than water.”

“When did it appear?” Dumbledore asked, curiously.

“I am not sure.” Walburga replied. "It appeared after Harry arrived." 

"I see." Dumbledore said. "That brought you to action."

"No and yes." Walburga said. "Blacks are very vengeful people when they have been wronged.” Walburga's edged voice grew thicker and edged by the passing moment, "And ruthlessly determined to get their target. The only way to shake them off is by faking their death. And being sent to Azkaban for it until Death came to them. No one wants that."

Dumbledore nodded, listening, following intently to what she had to say. He had met few of the Blacks that attended Hogwarts and the trouble that they had stirred. Sirius was among the ones that caused the most trouble with James below him when it came to Severus Snape and Tom Riddle was the third on the list of trouble makers as of recently. But mainly, it was the Blacks. The family was unique as it were falling down the river of extinction until this moment.

"Promise me that Harry will not die until he is supposed to." Dumbledore said.

Walburga looked toward the headmaster as she studied him.

"I can make sure Kreacher watches over him after my demise." Walburga said. "Will that do?"

"Up until he arrives to Hogwarts." Dumbledore said then a sparkle lit his eyes up. "It will do."

* * *

Sirius awoke that following morning carrying the seventeenth month old against his chest. He sat, relaxed in the rocking chair. He stared on toward the direction of Kreature who stepped forward rubbing his shoulder with his shoulders hunched and his ears dropped. The door closed behind him and he had all the looks in his eyes that he wanted to tell him something.

“What is it, Kreature?”

Kreacher took his hand off his arm then approached the wanted man.

“Master Regulus wanted this destroyed.”

Sirius stared at the locket then lifted his gaze up toward the house elf.

“Why would he want that, Kreature?”

“It has a piece of you know who’s soul.”

“What is that?”

“A Horcrux. Master Regulus said it was part of a ritual where people were horribly murdered then a slice of the soul was put into a object.”

Sirius’s eyes flashed open then he looked at the healed scar on Harry’s forehead then closed the house elf’s hand.

“Kreature, hold on to this.” he looked toward the old house elf. “We need your help to clear my name including Reggie’s.”

“Master Sirius, Kreature is sorry.” Kreature lowered his gaze.

“For what?” Sirius asked.

“Doubting you.” Kreature said.

"Raise your attention on me, Kreature." Sirius said.

Kreature lifted his head up toward Sirius.

“You are forgiven. You were parroting what you were given at the time in your letter.” The comment hung in the air. “Mother seems to have changed her ways.” Then he lifted his head up in the air sniffing. “Mmmhm, smells like eggs.”

“Mistress Walburga is making breakfast the muggle way.”

“The muggle way? She has gone mad, after all.” Sirius shook his head with a laugh. “Suppose I should milk it for what it is worth.”

Sirius wiggled his nose.

"Yuck." Sirius said. "He smells."

"Mistress Walburga had the baby gear moved."

Kreature twirled a wand and gestured the baby equipment out of the closet. Sirius changed Harry's diaper then chucked the diaper into the trash can that creature had set out for the diaper station.

"Paaadfoot!"

"Yes, I am Padfoot! Happy to be remembered after last night." Sirius said, happily, then his demeanor grew darkly serious. "Hold still."

Sirius changed the diaper of the boy with a fresh one and tapered it up.

"Paaadfoooot. Paaadfeeet! Padfeet!"

Sirius looked upon the boy in amusement.

"Playing with words aren't you now, Prongslet?" Sirius held the child up and put on a fresh onesie. "Good boy."

Sirius set the child in his arms as he came down the steps and finally admired in the colorful colors of the house that seemed different compared to how he had left it long ago. No longer was it a dark and dreary house but a entirely different character. He set down the path coming in through the living room then into the dining hall. He saw his mother setting up the table with Kreacher's help and stared at the foreign scenery noticing the table had a center stage of eggs, muffins and vegetables.

It was strange to see the curtains blowing with the window open and life was flourishing through the house. His surprise was replaced by a smile as Harry began to bubble his mouth playfully. Sirius set the child into the high chair then Walburga seated down in the front half of the chair. She picked up a bagel then proceeded to apply butter on to it with her knife. Sirius sat across from her alongside Harry. And it felt like the achievement that Sirius never thought he would live to see as he prepared his meal.

"Walla!" Harry cried.

"Waaalb."

"Walllaaa,"

"Waaalllb."

"Mother, this is a stubborn child. He will give you a nickname on his own time."

"A Black can try. I got you to say Walb when you were six months old."

"That's a kind of lesson that you have to do on your free time."

"I have lots of free time. Speaking of free time. . ." Walburga said, looking aside with sorrowful look then shifted her attention upon Sirius. "There is a garden outside that you can have some time for yourself there. Badly in need of tending."

"Why haven't you been tending to it yourself?" Sirius asked, incredulously.

"I am a little too old for that." Walburga said.

"Bollocks, mother!" Sirius leaned back into the seat as he tapped his fingers on the table as he used his free hand to slide baby food into Harry's mouth. "You did some painting even at the deep crevices. And your back hasn't gotten out of hand."

"How do you know that?" Walburga asked. "Did you get a doctorate while you were living on you own?"

"We spent hours repainting the house the muggle way and you didn't rest during it." Sirius said.

"It will come." Walburga replied.

"WaallaaaburgAaaAAaaaah!"

"And it will be long over due." Sirius noted over the boy's squealing as he grinned.

Walburga looked over, fondly, toward the boy half tempted to silence him; but the sound of his laughter won her over. Crookshanks leaped on to a chair alongside Walburga then sat down and purred. Walburga reached a hand out then rested it on Crookshank's head then proceeded to pet the cat with one hand as she ate breakfast.


	4. Chapter 4

Sirius watched Harry float about above the ground on the toy broom outside of the manor on the patio. His mother was paying little attention to the boy but knitting away at a dark shirt that was as Black as it could get and ugly to his eyes. It was a maroon red shirt to his eyes.

“I am going to do some gardening.” Sirius announced.

“Have fun.” Walburga said. “Make sure to avoid the hornet’s nest.”

“Mother. . . how. . .” Sirius didn’t have the slightest of ideas to start off. “long have you left the garden in disrepair?”

“Long enough to distract me when I get the energy to do some tending.” Walburga admitted.

She had gotten odder with age and neglectful of the manor; it became apparent to him it would become old and abandoned, uncared for, unloved, if she had passed on and a Black didn’t remain to care for it and become claimed by the land. He stared at the older woman for a moment processing the revelation then got up to his feet.

“. . Alright.”

Then he left the indoor patio. Sirius went outside after sliding on a set of gloves and boots. He exited the patio sliding the door open being met by the cool weather of the area. Sirius looked around then went toward the field that had once been a fine sea of roses. He knelt down then proceeded to carefully yank out a tree with his wand in his pocket. He tugged and tugged with his gloved hands around the stem of the recently planted tree then after a few moments his reward was in the form of roots snapping and the ground breaking. Sirius grinned at the reward of his labor.

He set aside the tree then began to work on the next tree and the next tree and the next tree until his eyes found there weren't any more stray trees that didn't belong around him. There were plenty of new trees but they were thicker as were the tree bark, it was even taller, covered in vines and white flowers. He knelt down and began working on the weeds. He had difficulty at first then fell to his butt with a thud. He stared at the challenge that laid before him then he walked toward it and began to fight against the landscape yanking out the weeds with difficulty. He grunted, growled, and fought against it until he were standing on one foot holding the tall weed standing on one foot then fell back to the grass.

With a sudden rage and strength that hadn’t been there before, Sirius was back on his feet yanking out the dandelions, small patches of grass, and a few plants that weren’t there before when he had last visited the garden. He tugged the plants out one by one then chucked them into a pile across from him. With force and determination, he yanked out the stems of the wildly growing bushes that didn’t quite belong. He grunted then dug and dug into the soil until he got to the roots. His fingers retreated up away from the roots then twisted and turned it, knelled down, then yanked it back out.

Sirius looked down upon the field of untended plants that was already starting to look back in shape. He yanked out more weeds this way knelt down on his feet humming to himself falling into autopilot with his mind focused on the task at hand. His yanking grew aggressive and aggressive with each passing weed then made it to another weed. It was getting easier adjusting to tending to the plants, but for the plants themselves: that was a entirely different story being withdrawn from their soil.

Sirius grunted, cursed, and grew frustrated fighting with the plant even screaming at it. 

"Why don't you cooperate with me! You're a plant! A STUPID ONE! I am someone willing to help you out where you don't belong! You fucked up! You fucked up BAD! I FUCKED UP!"

All until he fell down to his knees then wept into his hands. The only sounds in the air that was carried was his weeping and sobbing for the two people that he loved with every being in his body. He wept for a long while for the loss, the betrayal, the ink of hurt fell off his heart with each tear the fell down, out in the garden.

With the feelings gone, he got up to his feet and resumed what he had left off feeling emotionally numb to what was going on around him. Sirius's heart felt lighter behind his chest. There was no heavy feelings lingering behind. He hummed to himself during the task falling on autopilot paying little attention to anything that wasn't where it didn't belong. All up until a hand tapped on his shoulder. Sirius whipped around then took out his wand aiming it for the newcomer.

"Master Sirius!"

"Oh, it is just you, you old house elf." Then Sirius laughed. "Gave me quite a startle."

"Mistress Walburga requests you to attend dinner." Kreacher replied.

"Dinner?" Sirius raised his brows up in surprise. "But it is not even---" Sirius looked up and spotted the sky was dark above him. "Dark out. . ."

All the anger and rage that had been in him before were gone and he felt bone dead _tired_. Sirius had little desire to be angry. He turned away from the house elf then observed that a good portion of the garden was tended to. He turned away then whispered, "Tergeo," casting away the stains on his outfit. He followed the house elf to the inside of the house. He arrived into the living room and spotted Harry with his head resting on the footstool, his figure slumped, with his toy broomstick laid beneath his feet.

Sirius picked up the boy into his arms and the boy was up in a flash as the godfather took the toy out from between the boy's legs then set it aside against the wall with a spell. He smiled cradling the boy into the dining room finding it were prepared. He set Harry into the high chair then there was a knock from the door. Sirius immediately tensed up as Walburga sighed, exasperated, lowering her head then shook it.

"Daily Prophet reporters have been coming all day long asking what you are doing." Walburga said. "I will handle it."

Walburga walked away from the table briskly leaving the family behind.

"I see why you distracted me with the garden." Sirius said.

Walburga swung the door open.

"Sirius Black---"

"Sirius Black is not prepared to talk to you about his days with the Potters at Hogwarts, nor does he wish to speak of Voldemort's name, nor does he want to relay his testimony that you can all read about in the daily prophet in a few short weeks. We would best appreciate it if you apparated away and reported that Sirius Black is not feeling well given the light of events that had just transpired."

"But, Walburga---"

Walburga slammed the door shut on the reporters then returned to the table with a stride.

"I forgot how blunt you were." Sirius chuckled with a shake of his head.

Walburga lifted a brow then went on to eat the meal below her on the plate and they ate in somewhat of silence with Harry playing with words. 

"Graafenduur!"

"He said our house."

"Gryfunndeerr!"

"He got the spirit, but there is no fun in choosing a house before the sorting hat decides."

"No fun? What is the fun in the anxiety?"

"The fun is in the surprise, dear Sirius. However we dislike the sorting." Immediately, Walburga grew ashamed, wincing, closing her eyes quite pained by the memory that Sirius scowled at. The older woman sighed then lifted her gaze up as she cut up her meal to little bites as she quietly began to continue on her trail of thought. "The fun is in playing with what ifs in your head."

There was knocking from the door.

"I will get it." Sirius announced, dropping the napkin. "Stupid reporters lingering over time not giving me a goddamn rest!"

Sirius flung the door open.

"For fuck's sake---" Sirius stopped and his fury faded seeing his brother, alive and well, with a hand on the side of his arm dressed in muggle clothing.

"Hi." Came the muggle dressed man's hand wave as Sirius gaped. 

"Reggie?" Sirius asked. "Is that you? What is your patronus?"

Regulus smiled, rubbing his arm, sliding his long sleeve down over his wrist.

"I don't have a corporeal patronus." Regulus said. "What about yours?"

"A dog."

Abruptly, Sirius hugged the younger man. It was dark and moody outside behind them as Walburga lifted her gaze up from the table spotting Sirius hugging someone with dark hair that was curly as his. Sirius broke the hug off then gestured the younger man in.

Walburga stood up from the table then her left hand remained laid then trailed her long bony fingers along the table cloth, lifting her hand up, as she approached from the table staring at the younger man. Kreacher appeared alongside Walburga as his aged features became softened and his ears lowered. She clasped her hands into her lap looking on toward Regulus and Sirius then she looked toward the tapestry and back at Regulus.

"Tapestry doesn't lie."

"About that--" Regulus joined her side then twirled his wand and the skeletal features were replaced by a human face that had a hat on the top. "I enchanted it before I left."

Walburg shifted her gaze from the tapestry toward Regulus.

"I overestimated you, Regulus." Walburga said. "You're more Black than I will ever be."

Walburga turned around Regulus was floored then glanced toward his older brother and Sirius shrugged. 

"Dunno." Sirius replied.

"Kreacher, prepare a meal for Regulus." Walburga said. 

Her tone was gentlier, now. 

It had lost its sharp and ferocious demeaning edge. Kreacher noted of that as the brothers were seated and the meal was prepared for the most welcomed member of the group. Regulus stared toward the boy with the lightning bolt on his forehead in a state of shock and Harry stared back at Regulus with a smile. Harry's smile lit up the dining room in such a way that it was enlightening that everything around him seemed more vibrant and alive than before as if he were the lightning bolt itself each time that he smiled.

Kreacher noted of the initial silence that echoed through the dining room with their silverware clacking against the plates. He noted how quiet the mistress was, there was no insults hurled across the room, no shouting, no screaming, just a relative calm that was surreal. The last dinner that they had together was cruel with its doom gloom, misery, and sorrow. Now, it was different and Kreacher didn't know what to make of it. 

"Brother, tell us about what you have been doing since you traded the Horcrux."

"I have been living among the muggles. Well, they didn't know I have been living among them most of the time." Regulus said. "I joined a biker gang and got some non-magical tattoos to fit right in."

Regulus slid his hand forward revealing the tattoos on his knuckles that were at best unique as they were a series of teeth. Walburga's eyes almost zoomed in on the new found tattoos that were decorating his neck, his wrists, and the ones that were clearly exposed by the sleeves that were withdrawn. Sirius and Walberga were taken back by the amount of tattoos. Sirius was the most surprised of all with his brows raised.

"When. . . when. . . when did you decide to join bikers, brother?"

"After I came to America." Regulus said. "That was just the first year celebrating my newfound freedom. I traveled the globe the second year."

For the first time in a long time, Kreacher noted of a genuine small smile from Walburga.


	5. Chapter 5

The house silently alarmed Walburga as the mistress of the house as the door to the place slid open with a single spell. Her eyes slid open in alarm as she slid up from bed then picked up her wand from the table alongside the queen sized bed. She put on her slippers set alongside her bed waiting as they were every morning in different styles and age that was consistent in her life. Walburga came toward the doorway of her room then began to make her way to Harry's room as her fingers rubbed along the handle of the wand.

The men were sleeping in the same room for the first time in years and Harry was fast asleep. It felt a little more complete in the last few weeks as the Aurors searched for Peter high and low in every house that they could. The mood in the house was lighter and happier than it had been in recent years, the first time that genuine happiness flowed behind its walls over stories retold by Regulus with his time in the Muggle world. The feeling was carried throughout the house that was recently replaced by the feeling of slumber and uncertainty in the air of what would happen if the occupants awoke.

She dreaded that to happen on her watch.

Another tragedy that forced the boy to become a orphan once more.

That kind of result would not be allowed to pass by the house and neither would Walburga but the house wouldn't allow it.

A unpleasant thought of losing her two sons on this night over her threatened to break Walburga in two.

The early morning of December the 31st, the early hours of another day was set to go differently.


	6. Chapter 6

"Is this the house, Pettigrew?"

"I am sure of it." Peter returned with a nod.

"Time to finish what the dark lord has started." Dolohov said.

"Alohomora." Lucius said.

With the aim of the wand that had been revealed from the silver handle, the key hole glowed white and the door gently opened into the house. Then they proceeded to through the entrance of the house. It was three Death Eaters in all in a single filed line wearing masks that concealed their identity. It was so dark that the men blended in to the shadows as only moving figures that stood moving through through the building heading up the stairs.

Peter passed by a recent photograph of Sirius laughing at Walburga -- as she blinked while covered in head to toe in confetti -- alongside his brother with Harry clapping his hands together and Kreacher snaking off from the camera's view holding a slice of cake. It was a pleasant memory that was replaying over and over. Peter withdrew his wand at the ready then went down a passage way then another and another. The walk grew tedious and exhausting as if they were down this path for hours at a time.

"When is this maze going to end?" Peter whined. "I am tired."

"This isn't a maze, Pettigrew." Lucius said.

"Then what is this?" Peter asked with a halt.

Lucius paused, his eyes sweeping back and forth, scanning the doorway as Dolov grimaced.

"Blood magic." Dolohov noted.

"Blood magic!" Peter exclaimed. "Blood magic!"

"It can be countered." Lucius said then waved his wand. "Finite Incantatem."

"It is not working." Peter said then grew impatient once the scenery refused to change as he stepped from side to side quite uncomfortable being in the residence of his former childhood friend. "Maybe we should go and wait for when they take him out then finish him off when they are not looking?"

"The boy-who-lived has protectors who are watching his every move." Dolohov said.

"What if we fail and get caught?" Peter proposed as the men rolled their eyes. "We will be sent to Azkaban for this stunt!"

"And the Dark Lord to learn that no one tried to finish what he had started?" Lucius asked. "That is unacceptable."

"He is right," Dolohov said. "Lord Voldemort would be very unhappy with us -- may even kill --if we didn't try." He held his wand up quite determined on the task at hand. "We must work together."

Peter sighed, defeated, over the point of his friend then shrugged.

"Living is far better than dying." Peter said, quite dryly, lifting his wand up.

The scene melted around them gradually but slowly but with the combined strength of the other two wands, it was gone and it was lighter. They heard snoring coming from across the hall then they shared a nod. Lucius aimed the wand at the door to the child's room. He was the first to enter walking toward the child's bed followed by his companion.

Behind them, the door slowly closed until it hit the frame with a click. Behind them stood one wizard and one witch with the last one at the corner of the room across from the three Death Eaters. The young wizards themselves had only recently awakened upon orders of Walburga.

"Revelio." It was Sirius's voice that was the first to speak then another spell was casted once Peter's mask fell and the man turned toward the source of the caster. "Stupefy!"

The chant came from no where as it struck down Peter.

"Stupefy!" Lucius announced aiming toward Sirius.

Sirius countered the spell and Dolohov turned around countering a spell that had only started to be chanted, "Stupefy!"

The Death Eaters faced the direction of the two opponents casting spells but they were no match for them and they fell, quite stunned, by the spells that sent them crashing to the ground. Walburga loomed over them then sent the masks sent falling off them. Sirius scowled at the three unmasked men in his godson's room as his hand clenched his wand.

"Sirius, Regulus, you look upset." Walburga said. "Do you recognize one of them?"

"I do." Sirius nodded, staring down upon the fallen but quite unconscious man. "That is Peter."

"It's him alright." Regulus agreed.

"Kreacher, send for the Aurors." Walburga announced quite loudly. "Inform them that we have Peter Pettigrew and two other Death Eaters."

"This was nice." Regulus said. "Fighting by the side of family."

"We will have a lot more moments like these if the Death Eaters come running to kill Harry." Sirius said.

"Have ourselves a little mouse trap, don't we?" Walburga asked, bemused.

"That is the case, mother." Sirius said. "I would have it another way but this is the only one available."

"The worst and the best kind of mouse trap." Regulus remarked.

The family shared small smiles of their own with relief filling the air that became light as it had once been only hours ago and the dread was completely gone off the chest of the Blacks. They kept their wands at the ready prepared for the Death Eaters to arise and stupefy them once more. Sirius's hand was the most that was trembling compared to his younger brother who's grip was steady. Kreacher reappeared by the doorway.

"They will be here soon." Kreacher said.

"Now," Sirius said. "The war _is_ over."


	7. Chapter 7

Reporters had came day in and day out waiting for a comment by Sirius and Regulus about how it went down at the doorstep of their house, after Narcissa had sent a howler to Walburga for the loss of her husband being held in confinement until his trial could be properly held.

Sirius could still hear Narcissa's heartbroken, furious, and out raged voice echoing through the halls as it rang in his ears. A understanding was reached between the Blacks that Narcissa could reclaim the Black family name if she so desired after a family meeting that was quite unanimous regarding their feelings whether or not she was forced to be part of the war by Lucius. A understanding that came to a resolution. 

The following resolution was that if Narcissa were to admit that she was a Death Eater then she wouldn't be helped by any of the family members to stand on her feet (just herself and her works skills). All in all, it was a collective agreement not to grieve after angry shouting at the meeting should Narcissa be Azkaban regardless of she used political leverage to evade prison. The grieving would be done after the meeting as a precaution and it was taken into agreement.

He could still remember how angry the head of the family, the eldest, Aractarus, choosing words that showed his rage of how Narcissa being put into the position that she was in by someone they thought was supposed to be out of the war, to be pure, to be better than what the family thought about pure blood, to prove they did not mean their own words. Everyone held doubts that Narcissa personally agreed with what her partner did as part of the war but they had to step back from those feelings during the trial so the explosive bombshells wouldn't hurt. 

But to Cygnus and Druella; they would bear the hurt even bracing for the worst news possible holding the each other's hand.

* * *

Sirius watched as his brother was enchanted in a trance state by a mere potion and recall at great length to the court. It was unnerving seeing his brother that way. 

"What is your name?"

"Regulus Arcturus Black."

"Were you a follower of he-who-shall-not-be named?"

"I was."

"Did you know of a Death Eater by the name of Peter?"

"I did."

"Did you know his last name?"

"No."

"How many Peters do you know of in the Death Eaters?"

"Only one."

"Was it mentioned that his animagus was a rat?"

"Yes."

"Was it mentioned that he were the mole to the Order of the Phoenix?"

"It wasn't mentioned. He spoke, they listened."

The jury was in a uproar and the smack of the small hammer caused them to pause. Peter was in a secluded small plastic cell listening to the testimony that was being given to the court by Regulus. Sirius had little intention to be furious. He sighed, feeling free, relaxed, and generally relieved of what had been avoided. Sirius sighed in the chair, closing his eyes, smiling at the testimony that his brother was giving.

"Was Sirius Black considered to be a member?"

"No."

"Did they ever have him in the cards?"

"They did not." Regulus began to explain. "I advised the Dark Lord against that. He would rather die than have the dark mark on his skin." Sirius nodded in agreement; he knew of a certain spell that would destroy his skin even kill him if they were to attempt that even allow him to hold his wand after tricking them that he were going to do it. "His mind is very strong enough that making him a sleeper cell wouldn't work."

Murmurs were heard from the crowd.

"What is a sleeper cell?"

"Muggles call people who are secretly programmed to spy or do harm but don't know as sleeper cells as they are mainly sleep until they are activated to fulfill their role."

"Regulus Black, why was it be a bad idea to make him a sleeper cell?"

"If someone were to inject the dark mark into him, then Sirius wake up and would be killed by the Dark Lord." Regulus explained to the crowd as their eyes flashed open and jaws fell. "He has a history of fighting back in the mind and leaving them exhausted. The accomplishment of putting him to sleep well wouldn't last long for the dark mark of the reprogramming."

"Regulus Black, please lift your sleeve."

Obediently, Regulus lifted his sleeve.

"You may lower it now."

And he did as requested.

"Did you know of a Death Eater by the name of Lucius Malfoy?"

Regulus nodded.

"I did."

"How did he join? Was it willingly or under a curse?"

"He was not under a duress."

There was even more murmurs.

"This court will have recess. Court will resume with Sirius Black's testimony within two hours."

A smack then Regulus was out of the trance.

"Why is everyone leaving?" Regulus asked. "Aren't we supposed to be starting?"

Sirius laughed, loudly, from where he seated as the court filed out and Walburga was the first to depart from the court room from the viewer section for a retreat to the house.

* * *

Peter's testimony was to start the next day and the members of what had once been a large group were optioned to attend the trial. Remus opted out. She kept her eye out for the court as they questioned him under the truth serum. It was quick and it was as easily done as she had anticipated with his memory being used before the court with the switch being put in place which happened to be the last time that Sirius would see the Potters.

He wore the look of guilt, shame, and regret staring at the memory that he couldn't intervene in. He struggled to keep back the feelings but he couldn't so he wept into his hands, but it was silent, as the words of James and Lily echoed in the wide circular room with Rita Skeeter in attendance. He couldn't face the memory being projected as he sealed their doom. Walburga looked upon the young man in regret then shook her head.

A poor choice and he was still paying for it.

Only months ago, she would have been grinning and applauding his downfall.

Now, she didn't.

"Lift your sleeve up."

The only tattoo that was found on his left arm was of a series of tattoos.

"When did you get the tattoos?"

"After I graduated Hogwarts in the year 1978 along with James."

"Other sleeve, please."

Sirius did as instructed; there was no dark mark.

"Your testimony has been very insightful, Sirius Black." Sirius came to with a shake of his head and faced the crowd of people ahead of him. "Tomorrow, we start again, you are more than welcome not to attend the proceedings if you like."

* * *

It was the next day, at the temporary flat, that Remus listened to what Sirius had to say about why he had voiced Peter in to the Potters plans while Harry was back at the house being watched over by Kreature and Walburga. The sheer anger that had been resting at the top of the surface lowered and became cold as the entire story fit together neatly. Remus reached a hand out as Sirius started to cry; it started as one tear then another and another and another until he were weeping.

Remus caught the Black into his arms in a embrace. Sirius was quite heartbroken. So completely heart broken of a simple mistake and lack of talking.

"I am. . ." Sirius lowered his head, in shame, once the story was said face to face. "I am so sorry."

"Look, Padfoot." Remus said. "I should be the one apologizing to you."

Sirius backed out of the hug, shocked, his brows raised up.

"Moony!" Sirius said. "Don't play the blame game. I am the reason why they dead."

Remus shook his head, bitterly, but just as heartbroken.

"I mean it." Remus said. "Before, they made Peter the secret keeper. . . I voiced my concern to James about you being the mole."

Then Sirius started to laugh and so did Remus. Just like old times until they were seated on the couch side by side, crying, and shaking with laughter holding each other. Their laughter restarted every time they started to look at each other until they were fast asleep and Sirius was leaned against the side of the werewolf. Remus wrapped his arm around Sirius's waist as he were relaxed and everything felt it were becoming a new normal. And that is how Alice Longbottom found them when she went on to check on them in the following afternoon with Frank. 

* * *

By February 1982, a new head appeared on the tapestry. Walburga reached her hand out on to the wall feeling the warmth on the wall. She smiled feeling life radiating from it as it were set alongside the head of Sirius. She smiled to herself, _A Black is a Black._ No matter what or who they loved, what they did, or how they were sorted into. Her eyes glided over toward the head of the young infant on the tapestry overwhelmed in pride.

Walburga stepped back then went toward the back yard with a hum feeling light in her steps.

No Death Eater dared to show themselves in the house or outside trying to kill Harry with the spectacular failed attempt on his life posted on the newspapers.

* * *

It's 1985, Peter is in Azkaban awaiting for the Dementor's Kiss. Harry was five years old and happily playing at the Wizardly day care surrounded by other infants his age. He whizzed by Sirius on the toy broomstick being chased by young Draco Black chasing after him as were Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom. The sound of children laughing filled the air around Sirius. A noise that he wouldn't have heard had he gone after Peter, a noise that would have been the sound of Dementors, the sound of constant storming, and the sound of the seas raging against the island that Azkaban was resting on.

The sound of happiness and positivity flowed about the room as he left hand in hand with his partner by his side holding his hand. Remus smiled more than he had during the first and last Wizarding war. They returned to the house hand in hand. Once, a long time ago, Sirius would have dreaded coming to these doors The door opened with a twist of the door and walked in through the apartment. Kreacher was waving his hand chasing away the toys into the basket with a complaining grumble.

"Back, so soon Master Sirius?"

"We are going on a walk at the nearest woods." Sirius replied. "Thought mother would appreciate it being out of this old and stuffy house.

"She is at the backyard." Kreacher said.

"Kreacher is in a good mood." Remus said.

"Aren't we all, Moony?" Sirius replied with a smile.

Remus squeezed Sirius's hand looking back at him with a smile.

"I think having a happy family is really putting a number into his sour mood." Remus said. "Peace time and all."

"Hardly going to be interrupted any time soon." Sirius said.

"If it does get interrupted, how do you think that will go?"

"A stupefy and they will be down before they know it." Sirius said. "And be slapped silly until they get it through their heads they wouldn't be alive had Voldemort not have died."

Remus laughed as he walked through the living room into the back end of the house.

"That would be very difficult to do," Remus said. "If they are really into the Death Eater cause."

Sirius snorted.

"Sometimes, hate is just that powerful." Sirius said. "There is some hope it isn't for most people."

"How is your brother, anyway, Pads?" Remus asked with a lift of his brow looking toward his companion. "I haven't seen him since Harry's third birthday."

"He became a Auror just recently." Sirius said. "Having the time of his life mending for his crime by chasing after people who did that and risk his life to help the people that they wronged every day."

"Ah, busy, busy." Remus said. "Lucky."

Sirius was out the back door as he started to approach his mother resting in a chair in front of the garden.

"Mother, would you like to go to a natural reserve with us?" Sirius asked. 

Walburga was quiet.

"Mother?" Sirius put his hand on her shoulder then shook it as he looked down toward her. "Mother?"

Sirius stepped in front of her then turned toward Walburga as Remus came to her side then looked upon her.

"She is gone, Pads." Remus said. 

Sirius looked upon the aged features on her face then toward the well taken care of garden that had been restored to the former glory and he turned his attention upon her.

"At least, we left on better terms." Sirius said.

Remus took Sirius's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Want me to give the call to the Magical Medical Examiner?" Remus asked.

"Yes." Sirius turned his attention upon Remus as his eyes became watery. "I would."

Remus let go of Sirius's hand then went on back inside the house and Sirius turned toward Walburga. With the tips of his fingers, he slid her eyes closed then picked up a water hose and aimed it at the plants. She had helped him keep Harry and regain his freedom. He turned the hose off then turned in the direction of Remus and smiled. 

"Still like to go on that walk?" Remus asked. 

"More than ever." Sirius nodded. "More than ever."

**The End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The opening line about Sirius entering the house came upon me as I was doing yard work as a simple large paragraph. I tried to write it at first that way but it didn't agree with me because 1) I realized Walburga was alive then. 
> 
> So I wrote it differently as Walburga Black being informed by Kreacher a new head appeared then she had a heel face turn once the head vanished and decide to have Kreacher fetch him. And he wasn't quite happy about it. 
> 
> I like that opening large paragraph so I did emergency story surgery and changed it from there to that.
> 
> Yes, they got all the horcruxes destroyed in the months and years after the trial.


End file.
